The Light of the Sword Logic
by CallOfTheLoneWolf
Summary: After living for so long, surviving countless years of battle after battle, struggle after struggle, war becomes second-nature. And after so much war, you begin to no longer recognize the lives of your soldiers as anything more than another resource, just more bodies to throw at the line. Once you've done that? Well, then War becomes a Game. And who said you couldn't cheat?
1. Announcement

I apologize profusely for the long wait!

...

And the little bit more of a wait.

But! I stuck to my word (words?) and I'm sure as hell not abandoning this! In fact the first chapter of this update will be longer than all the other ones combined, with a hell of an improvement in writing and world building! So after relearning lore, with Bungie's bullshit being taken into account, I now have a solid outline for more than 5 goddamn books, all over 100k+! And its lore friendly!

-ish...

I end up eventually eliminating the Rise of Iron DLC entirely...

But fear not! Everything else pretty much lines up with all the lore, even with my extra dickery, for the main reason of preserving my sanity! I mean, do you guys _really_ understand the pain in the ass it is to dodge around Bungie's shit and still fuck it all up at the same time? Anyway, I'd like to ask for anyone to point out any mistakes I make in adhering to lore so that I can fix them! Although, please keep theories out of it, as I have my own and their _kinda_ the foundation for the entirety of this story... On the other hand all criticism is welcome, as improving in my skill is something I greatly enjoy doing!

For all the new people who have no idea what the hell I'm talking about and just came to read a fic, I applaud you for making it this far and not going to the next story on this website! And as a reward, I'll fill you in on the nonsense I was speaking earlier! To make a long story short, this fic is about an unusual Exo named Phoenix, who for the first half of this fic will not be a Guardian, who is old as hell! Some of you might understand what the title implicates, and you're damn straight I'm going there! Anyway, this will be initially set right as the City is becoming a legit settlement, and will feature Phoenix-0 navigating the problems that come with a fledgling city! I know the summary is a little inaccurate, and I'll be changing it.

That's really all I can tell you at the moment...

Thanks for being patient!

If you've been wondering why this took so long I've been spending most of my time on discord with fellow writers, readers, betas, artists, and gamers! We help each other when needed and often brainstorm together, so if you'd like to join the instant link is below! (Just put a period between discord and gg)

discord gg/QRfc9WM


	2. Prologue

Hey everybody! And no, this isn't the promised first chapter, that's still coming along. But, I thought with it being a Holiday and all that I could release the prologue! Again, sorry for the long wait!

Please tell me about any mistakes be they concerning Destiny or writing in general, and also if you've noticed the improvement in writing quality!

Happy 4th, and thank you for reading!

* * *

 _Strange._

 _Strange would be the one word he'd choose to describe his state of being. This... Nothingness, as he floats in the Dark._

 _The Paragon couldn't see himself; he couldn't move. But he saw the void: snaking tendrils of Darkness seeming to go somewhere, only parted by glowing balls and pits of…_ _ **finality**_ _. Such that he couldn't look at it, the sheer force of will it exerted an undeniable testament that it was_ _ **End**_ _, he felt he would be swallowed._

 **You are a Paragon. An Exo who has subverted his bounds, and leapt to reach heights no other can reach. A pinnacle of strength that no causal force could threaten.**

 _He focused inward, testing this void by clawing his own existence into being._

 _He was an Exo. A self aware war machine so advanced that nothing short of the spawn of a dead God could understand his inner workings. He was a mystery unto himself, unsolvable by any. Exos were made to embody humanity, both in mind and soul._

 _A human machine._

 _His mind willed his body, hardened materials mixed with Ancient and Golden technology, all of it intertwined with flowing streams of supercritical streams of white._

 _That fluid was his Anchor._

 _It was not something he had needed to further push his Will. No, it had in fact weakened him, all until his writ made that weakness into Strength. He would protect and grow his own, would grow stronger and greater until there was no one greater than Him. Knowledge became his Blade, and by the Blade would he continue. And it was by that way that he bound himself to his Kin, and made them his Way._

 _Ether._

 **However, you are not just machine. You are the power that stands as a replica of what once was. Something meant long dead, but survives to gain more and more. You have slain Gods, and have dined on their marrow to sate your hunger. A self-made Deity. Cruel, calculating, and manipulative.**

 _As he looked into the Deep he could feel its stare, the Will it exerted subverting his own existence._

 _If he did not do more, he would Die._

 **You have been Taken.**

 _The Exo delved deeper into himself, going for the very fire that was being used against him. He flexed his mind, his very being, and brought what made him outside the bounds of legality into this Dark._

 **Give up your search. Set down your Blade. Cease your Conquest. You have no one to protect any longer, no one to nourish. There is no one who depends on you. You have done all you can.**

 _Him._

 _HE was what wrote the rules. What decided on what exists, and what ceased. Power that was once never now existed, defining itself as if it was always there, the paracausal force tying itself into its home among his Ether lines. They were what grounded him, what kept him entwined with the fate of his Kin, and solidified the path he walked to obtain power. His purpose._

 **You Are Taken.**

 **Here there is no path to walk. No one to protect, no one to defend. Who do you fight for? What fuels your blade?**

 _This place would not conquer him. He had purpose, he had reason. He defined himself, therefore he was self-defined. Something that could not be stopped. He created himself, therefore nothing could create him, and in that cold logic he created himself as never-ending._

 _He was Undying._

 **You live from knowledge. You use the Strength gained from Knowing to protect what is yours. You do this in hope of eliminating all harm to what you have claimed. An admirable goal, yet partially skewed.**

 _He could hear it. It spoke to him,_ through _him. The Paragon had power, self-evident power. An existence reliant on no other. This Nothing that tried to define him, to lock his existence into Its design, pushed heavily on his Will with undeniable laws of Its nature_

 _An Anthem Anatheme with no structure. A subjective Will cutting into objective reality, honed like a blade._

 _He would not fall on its Edge._

 **You betray yet support the very system you exploit to gain power. You protect what is yours and in doing so trap it in a cage. In weakness.**

 _No, they were his family. His Kin. They grew strong with him. He made them strong. And when they couldn't defeat what threatened them, he was there. He_ _ **made**_ _them exist. They depended on his existence, and so the Exo, in his self-writ, made them never ending._

 **With no one to protect, you are null. You need to be preemptive, to eliminate all existence that is Above you, and all that is below you. To be strong and dependent on no other. A self-defining truth.**

 _That's right, they weren't here. There was no one to protect. He had nothing to define, therefore he was undefined. Formless. If he had no definition, how was he made? What was his purpose?_

 **You must strike at All. You must make yourself.**

 _That seemed right. He would make himself. And destroy everything else. In that Way there would be nothing to define Him except for Himself. He would Be._

 **There is a Sword for you. It is shaped like [Always].**

 _In the embracing Dark, a long Sword appeared, reminiscent of the Hive constructs that he had fought against in the past. It was made of the same_ _ **finality**_ _that surrounded him now. He could sense it. And with one metallic hand he reached for it. All would be fine now._

 **Take up the Blade. Bind it to yourself, and impale yourself upon it.**

 _Wait. He was self-defined. He could not depend on this blade._

 _His hand jerked back, curling into a fist as he spread his Will._

 _Who was he? Where was he? What was his purpose? What drove him?_

 _He was Kell. He had Kin. They were his purpose, and Knowledge was his drive._

 _He would not be Defined._

 _The once comforting embrace of the Dark turned cold, seething with malice and resentment from the rejection._

 _He would not End._

 **Take your new sha-**

 _ **No!**_


End file.
